


time has many branches

by marshie_marshmallow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshie_marshmallow/pseuds/marshie_marshmallow
Summary: Four timelines and four conversations involving the topic of Felix's hair.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dorothea Arnault & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Leonie Pinelli, Flayn & Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33
Collections: Felix Birthday Week 2020





	time has many branches

**Author's Note:**

> for day 3 of Felix Week: Hair + Loyalty/Betrayal

Felix leaves Faerghus for the Empire. The people of his homeland spit curses at him and call him a traitor.

He cuts down his father and Ingrid at Arianrhod, Sylvain on the Tailtean Plains. He watches Dimitri die by Edelgard's hand and it's  _ his  _ army that celebrates the death.

He leaves Faerghus with sword in hand and does not return.

* * *

“You cut your hair again,” Dorothea comments over tea, eight years after the war, running her fingers through it at the back of his neck. “I really did prefer the long hair.”

“Yeah, well, I got tired of it,” he replies. “It's easier to maintain this way.”

That was a lie. It was because long hair was something of a familial trademark for House Fraldarius and Felix had long ago forfeited his claim to anything relating to his family. Looking in the mirror and seeing long hair reflected back only made him think of his father, brother, uncle – anyone and everyone that he had abandoned.

She gives a tight-lipped smile as she withdraws her hand and sets it in her lap. “You're leaving again tomorrow?” she asks.

“No reason to stay.”

“Where are you going?”

He shrugs. “Old Alliance territory, maybe. There's not been a lot of work around this area.”

There’s lots of work to be found in former Kingdom territory but they both know that for him to go there is a terrible idea. Even if he isn't caught by an angry mob and killed, simply being there might very well drive him over the edge. It’s been a long while since he had any value for his own life, after all.

When he does leave the next morning, she kisses him on the cheek and tells him to stay safe. He won’t do so since he has no concern for his own safety anymore but he promises to try to make it to another one of her shows. It’s the best he can offer these days. She asks if he’ll consider growing his hair back out and he tells her not to hold her breath for that one.

* * *

Felix leaves Faerghus to join the Alliance's army. Some call this betrayal while others recognize it as him taking what he believes is the best chance for Fodlan.

At some point, contact with his father ends altogether and he must assume the man was killed. He's forced to battle Ingrid and Sylvain to the death amidst the confusion of Gronder. He stands helplessly as Claude and Hilda announce that Dimitri was killed by Imperial soldiers.

He considers staying in Faerghus but decides against it and leaves with sword in hand, opting only to return when there was money to be earned.

* * *

“Your hair looks like you haven't cut it properly in a while,” Leonie says one evening after three years have passed. They’re sitting in an inn, the mercenaries from their group scattered around the dining room.

“I've cut it.”

She scrunches her face up. “I mean, yeah you've  _ cut it _ but... it's kinda... Okay, in the interest of honesty, it looks like the most you ever do is occasionally hack it with a knife.”

“That  _ is _ what I do.”

She doesn't look like she likes that answer. “Really. At least use actual scissors.”

“If I use a knife, I can just grab it and chop it all off in one go.”

“Yeah, but it won't be  _ even. _ ”

“Since when do you give a shit about hair care, anyway?”

“I don't but there's a certain level of self-maintenance that's just- Ugh. I don't care what my hair looks like that much but I at least _cut it_ evenly. People are more likely to hire someone who can at least put on a presentable front. I don't care what you do with your hair but you can do that much.”

He rolls his eyes and turns his gaze towards the fireplace.

“Come on, Felix,” Leonie says, reaching an arm across the table. “Let me cut it for you, at least.”

“If it’ll get you off my back, then sure.”

In the end, he lets her go at his hair with a pair of scissors. The result  _ does _ look better than the results he was getting with the knife. He still considers it unimportant, compared to their next job. Appearances don’t matter to him. There’s very little left in the world that matters to him.

* * *

Felix leaves Faerghus to join up with the Church of Seiros's resistance. While the decision to leave the fight against the Dukedom behind is criticized, his choice of army never is, as the Church is a staunch and revered ally of the Kingdom.

The battle at Gronder Field comes quickly and without warning, so quickly that the resistance doesn't hear of it until it's ended. His father, Ingrid, and Sylvain were all killed. Dimitri, too, was cut down so soon after they found out he was alive.

He puts flowers on their graves, tries to endure a few months of being Duke, and then abandons his duty with sword in hand.

* * *

“And your hair!” Flayn fusses. Though it's been twenty years, she looks to be not a day older than she was back then. With how well the monastery’s been rebuilt, the only thing in the cathedral that’s truly a sign of the times is Felix himself. “It appears that you have done nothing to take care of it!”

“I don't get paid for my hair to look good. I get paid to-”

“Slice people apart! I am well aware!”

“And _ I'm _ well aware of how disapproving you are of the fact that I continue to use my sword for its intended purpose.”

Maybe he took a fatal blow in his last battle and this is all a dying fever dream. It would explain Flayn's bizarre youth.

“That you have allowed yourself to fall to this level...” she says, hands clasped in front of her, “doing nothing but killing... Not even caring about yourself enough to put any effort into your appearance... And your scars... You must have been quite reckless in battle.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“I should say it very much  _ is _ my concern! You are my  _ friend _ ! We were classmates at the academy, were we not?”

“That was a long time ago.” Twenty-five years, to be precise. “We’re hardly classmates anymore.”

“And the war? Did we not fight together under the same banner?”

“The war’s been over for almost as long.”

She wraps her arms around him. “I do not care how long it has been. You will  _ always _ be important to me.”

He huffs and doesn’t return the hug.

When he sets out from Garreg Mach, Flayn is right on his heels. It’s annoying. He doesn’t need companions. Everyone who he would have considered to fill such a role has been twenty years dead in the ground. Her ceaseless chatter grates on his nerves. So does her eternal youth and the constant disapproval of the way he earns money. She insists on cutting his hair herself and that, too, is annoying. He doesn’t deny that it at least looks slightly better, though.

* * *

Felix stays with Faerghus, choosing to be loyal to the end. When he leaves the front lines against the Dukedom, it's only to join the Kingdom in another capacity: the army that forms when Dimitri is found alive.

His father is killed in the aftermath of the battle at Gronder Field but it sparks a second wind for the army when Dimitri chooses to stop listening to the ghosts of his past. Ingrid and Sylvain fight alongside him always, unfailing in their skill or devotion to the cause. Dimitri becomes the king that his people need, the kind of king that Felix always knew he could be deep down.

He takes over his father's position and serves as the king's right hand, the new Shield of Faerghus.

* * *

“When is the last time you cut your hair?” Dimitri asks absent-mindedly as Felix hands his horse off to a stablehand.

“That’s an odd greeting,” he replies. “Does it look that bad?”

The war has been over for five years but reconstruction is a difficult process and they’re now responsible for the whole of Fodlan. Someone needs to be the king’s voice in other corners of the land. Felix has been settling a minor rebellion in former Empire territory and has only just returned after three months.

“Ah, my apologies. It looks fine. I simply realized that I can’t quite recall the last time it got so long.” The two begin the walk from the stables back to the castle. “Not to say you’ve ever exactly worn it short but… Shorter than this.”

Felix runs a hand over his head. “I haven’t thought to cut it recently.”

“I like it like this. It suits you.”

“... Thanks.”

“That aside, how did things go?”

“Well enough. There were minimal casualties. Their people were hungry. We did what we could to distribute food and money, which should help until the harvest comes in. I’ll give you the full report later.” He makes a face. “The  _ roads _ we had to travel, on the other hand…”

Dimitri sighs as he pushes open the door to the castle’s side entrance. “I intend to address the upkeep of the roads but we have limited funds and I do not wish to tax the people any more than I already am.”

Felix crosses his arms. “I know. But some of these roads are getting downright dangerous. Letting aside that some of them could kill you just from how damaged they are, it makes the people traveling them easy pickings for highwaymen and monsters.”

“What do you propose I do, then, if we do not wish to raise taxes to repair them?”

“Me?”

“You  _ are _ my advisor, are you not?”

“I can’t just come up with a plan on the spot like that!” They stop at the foot of a staircase. “... I suppose the Church might be able to give us enough to at least repair the worst of them. The monastery repairs are coming along well enough and they need those roads as much as we do… We can discuss it at the next council meeting and see if anyone else has some input.”

Dimitri nods. “Very well, then. I have work to return to in my study. The servants, I’m sure, are likely preparing a bath for you in your quarters as we speak.”

Felix stifles a yawn. “Good. It was a long journey. I could use one.”

“I will see you at dinner tonight, then,” Dimitri says as he turns away.

“You owe me a spar later!” he shouts at the king’s retreating back. Once he gets a wave of acknowledgment, he ascends the stairs to the guest quarters, ready to take a bath and get some rest.

He spends more time dealing with politics and governance than he does fighting these days. He once used to wonder about what might happen if he abandoned his duty to Faerghus and Dimitri. He knows, however, somewhere deep in his heart, that to leave Faerghus would never have made him happy. His friends like to joke that there’s nothing in the world that makes him happy but he can say that he knows for certain what  _ doesn’t _ .

And, really, what makes him happy is them. All of them, there and alive and by his side. They all survived the war, Dimitri and Ingrid and Sylvain. He thinks that, if even one of them had died, he might very well have lost himself entirely. But they’re there, making the world a better place. Dedue, Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe, too.

He has the people that matter to him by his side. If he had to put down his sword forever, if it meant that they would continue to live and stay by his side, he would. There are plenty of skilled swordsmen in the world but the people close to him are entirely irreplaceable.

He lets his hair out of its ponytail as he enters the room that he always stays in. Dimitri was right. It really is getting quite long. He could cut it, he supposes, but maybe Dimitri was right. Maybe it suits him.


End file.
